


Your Word

by ivarara



Series: other hk writing [12]
Category: Hollow Knight (Video Games)
Genre: yeah this is kinda angsty sorry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-24
Updated: 2020-11-24
Packaged: 2021-03-09 22:42:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 748
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27703616
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ivarara/pseuds/ivarara
Summary: It does not realize the power of its decision.
Series: other hk writing [12]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1558498
Comments: 3
Kudos: 21





	Your Word

“Tell me: which vessel shows the most potential?” The Pale King’s voice is smooth and level, no emotion apparent. A tone expected of someone caught up in leisurely conversation rather than deciding the fate of their own children.

The other two vessels wriggle under the scrutiny. Their cloaks, far less pristine and elegant than the Pure Vessel’s own, are ruffled and barely reach the small beings’ knees. The Pure Vessel towers over them. Its own mask is nearly as tall as the vessels themselves. Still, despite the intimidating stature and pressure of the decision to be made, they look up to it adoringly, the way a younger sibling would admire an elder.

The Pure Vessel narrows its eyes as it thinks. 

The first vessel, with asymmetrical horns and wide eyes, stands calmly, if not slightly proudly. Their head is held high, posture straight and at attention. They look straight back at their older sibling, showing their readiness.

On the other hand, the second vessel stands tall, but their head is tucked down, eyes averting the Vessel’s gaze. They try desperately to keep their eyes locked, but, without fail, they turn away and stare back at the ground before them. 

Turning back to its father, the Knight indicates that it would like to see their nails and stances. The King nods curtly, then barks an order to the other two to draw their respective nails. Kingsmoulds move in, flanking the two of them. The sheer size of the warriors overpowers the vessels’, making them both seem small and fragile, despite their potential. 

The first vessel draws their nail and spins on their heel to face the Kingsmould next to it. The guard reflexively responds, drawing their own weapon. By now, the vessel is poised to strike, stance sturdy yet ready to attack. In the blink of an eye, the vessel strikes--a fierce swipe at one of the Kingsmould’s legs, making it stumble, off-balance. Just as quickly, they dart back to land a bevy of blows upon the middle and arms of the warrior, making it fumble its weapon. Finally, the vessel points the tip of their nail at the Kingsmould’s open faceplate, awaiting a verdict.

The Pale King almost preens at His child’s prowess. Respectively, the Knight nods, motioning for the vessel to go back at ease.

It has already made its decision, by now. The first is far more adept to combat the Radiance’s hordes of mindless minions. It indicates so by pointing a clawed finger at them.

“It is decided,” the Pale King announces to the small crowd around them. “This warrior has been selected by the Pure Vessel itself to aid in the battle against the Radiance.” He turns to the vessel, stooping over towards them. “You, young one, have been chosen. You will begin your work immediately.”

“What about the other?” someone in the crowd calls out.

Immediately, the King’s face darkens, His eyes going cold with distaste and disgust as they land on the other, more feeble vessel. “Seeing as you have _failed_ your purpose,” He starts, “you will not be preserved.” A hush falls upon the crowd as the realization settles in. “To the Abyss you will go, where you will think upon this failure for the rest of your worthless life.”

The Pure Vessel balks at this. It did not know it had been performing a life-or-death decision between the two. It had merely figured the other would be sent back for more training, not discarded like some shameful blemish to be hidden from all eyes. Worriedly, it wrings its hands together under the armor and cloak. It tries to lock eyes with the doomed vessel desperately, finding that they are looking back at it with pain in their eyes. Betrayal. Hopelessness. Some bitter, niggling anger that they dare not act upon in the crowds’ presence. But most of all: forgiveness. 

They know it is ultimately not the Pure Vessel that has decided to commit their demise. It is simply performing as instructed. They do not blame it for what it has chosen. Hidden, they glare daggers at their own father, the one who has condemned them to this fate.

The Kingsmoulds move towards the unfitted vessel, arms locking around their own and unceremoniously, ungraciously, drags them away.

The last thing the Knight sees is Void-like tears leaking out of the vessel’s mask, begging eyes turned on their brethren as they are led to their death.

I hope you were right.

**Author's Note:**

> YES ok i hinted at the fact that the vessel thk chose would be/would become the broken vessel, so that the decision ultimately was moot


End file.
